


Where the Wild Things Went

by banafofool



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Cop!Derek, Deputy Derek, Deputy-ish Stiles, Friends to Lovers, Leather jacket makes an appearance, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Porn, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, there's porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 14:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banafofool/pseuds/banafofool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the mass of cosmic chances, the universe had at least two things planned out. One, Claudia Stilinski and Talia Hale would be best friends. Two, their friendship would bring Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski together. </p><p>Or at least this is what Stiles believes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxxAthaelaxxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxAthaelaxxx/gifts).



> Enjoy, and I may have added some stuff to the prompt. Uh, sorry if you hate it.

In the mass of cosmic chances, the universe had at least two things planned out. One, Claudia Stilinski and Talia Hale would be best friends. Two, their friendship would bring Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski together. 

Or at least this is what Stiles believes. See, they had met years ago, their story beginning in the kids section of their local library. 

Claudia and Talia had been meeting to talk books, and Stiles had run off to where he was sure his favorite book was. Upon arriving at the kid's section though, Stiles found an older boy there, _Where the Wild Things Are_ already in his hands. Stiles had felt his heart shatter, feeling the beginning of a legendary tantrum. As the first few tear drops worked their way out of Stiles' eyes, the older boy looked up, seemingly startled. 

"Oh, hi. I'm Derek. We can- we can read this together if you want. I'm a little old for it but it's good practice." The older boy, Derek, sounded proud but Stiles could hear the underlying _I actually love this book forever_ in his words. Stiles was about to walk over, tantrum fading as fast as it grew, when new panic arose in his chest; he couldn't read yet. 

Worried that this may scare off a potential friend, Stiles mumbled his worries under his breath. At Derek's confused look, Stiles sighed heavily before whispering forcefully, "I can't read yet- I'm only five."

Looking at the younger boy with kind eyes and a beaming grin, Derek replied, "That's okay! Like I said, I could use the practice. I can just read it to you?" Derek sounded almost hopeful, and Stiles pretended to seriously think it over for a few seconds before agreeing, secretly overjoyed to have a friend. 

They'd talked and talked, by the end both knowing that they both wanted to be like Stiles' daddy when they grew up, and that cheetos were the best.

Looking back on it, Stiles decided that that was probably the moment he fell in love with Derek Hale- the guy did the  _voices from the book._ Dream material right there. Both of their moms had wandered over, long after arriving to find a snoozing Stiles practically in Derek's lap, Derek smiling at the book as he continued to read softly. 

They'd been friends ever since. 

. . . . 

Years upon years grew between them, Derek helping Stiles learn to read, Derek teaching Stiles to swim, Stiles showing Derek how to bake right. Hours spent in the woods, chasing birds and squirrels, fondly being called the Wild Things by their moms. Nights of sitting and silently gazing at the changing sky. Holding hands during scary movies, both of them slowly interweaving themselves into each other's lives and families. 

Things had changed quickly though, almost over night and drastically. They had drifted apart around when Stiles started high school and Derek started his senior year. That had been the year it all fell to shit. Stiles mom had died, Stiles watching her fade everyday until one day we felt her leave. It _ached_. But Derek had been there, holding him, calming him down from fits of rage at the world, talking him down from panic. Talia and the rest of Derek's family had been devastated, taking Stiles and his dad in as their own, inviting them to dinners, taking care of each other.

But this was nothing compared to what happened to Derek; entire family burned by serial arsonist, leaving only Derek and a comatose uncle and some ash. Stiles had known his entire family, had thought of them as part of him, and the ache felt like nothing compared to the sinking pain in his soul. Derek though, Derek, unlike Stiles, had cut himself off from it all, never accepting Stiles' helping hand. 

Derek had left later that year, going off to college, and Stiles had been forced to move on. Until he met Scott, that is. But there was one thing that had never changed; Stiles' never-endingcrush on his former (older) best friend. Which leads to where he is now. 

He's deep in his fantasy, Derek bending him over, lovingly kissing his throat as he works Stiles open. Stiles had thought the crush may have been fading as well, but then they had reconnected; skyping while Derek was in college earlier that night. 

Stiles strokes himself faster at the memory of Derek grown up, high pitched whines leaving his throat, knowing he's alone in the house tonight. His hips roll into his waiting hand, his lubed up fingers creeping towards his own hole. He lets out a loud keen when he breaches himself, knowing just where to go from practice. Screams and pleas leave his mouth as he finds his prostate, and from then it's over fast. Stiles' entire being arches into a tight angle as his body leaves the bed and Derek's name leaves his mouth. He comes, his own release hitting him in the chest as he lets out softer, more pleading whines of Derek's name. 

Eleven years since they first met, and Stiles is still absolutely gone on Derek Hale. 

And Stiles sure as hell hopes that it doesn't become too obvious as they begin skyping. Not often, just enough for Stiles to gain new fantasies about every month, all of them growing more detailed as he watches Derek change; he got a new leather jacket that makes Stiles weak, stubble growing that Stiles decides would feel best in between his legs. Stiles flirts in his passive aggressive-is-he-even-a-person way, and for the most part he thinks that Derek responds. 

One particular occasion stuck to his mind though. One random afternoon, about a month since their last Skype, Derek initiates one while Stiles is gathering his laundry. Stiles answers the ringing without a shirt on and sweatpants low on hips. He probably looks like crap, especially while his hair is messed from sleep. Derek had gaped a little while he thought Stiles wasn't paying attention, and there was a permanent blush on his face the entire conversation. 

But then Derek hadn't talked to him for another two months.

The barely there skyping goes on for about two years, falling in and out of touch so much that Stiles' dick is getting whiplash. It comes to a slightly more solid ending when Stiles finishes high school. He graduates with a smile on his face and a fart that he lets out just as he passes Finstock. All in all, pretty great. Derek congratulates him, and then is seemingly lost in his own world again. Stiles tells himself that it doesn't matter, that the hurt he feels is just his heart connecting with his dick for once. 

Stiles chooses to forget about it, and enjoy college. 

. . . .

The funniest bit that Stiles can think of with the Derek dilemma is that they both end up doing what they wanted when they were younger; Stiles follows Derek's clear footsteps and goes to college for criminal justice. Just like Derek, and more importantly, just like Stiles' dad. Stiles spends his college years drinking and smoking pot, Scott alongside him but with an Allison beside him. Stiles only feels a little replaced.

But then he goes home and jerks off, riding his own fingers, to angry thoughts of Derek, then sweet forgiving ones right after. Consistency.

He grows a pair and has sex though, twice to be precise. It's not good but it's not horrible, mostly Stiles had felt guilty for thoughts of Derek. 

. . . . 

Stiles is twenty four when he finally graduates, having taken a few years off to travel and one for an internship. Stiles is also twenty four when he gets a real job, right at home in the Beacon Hills Police Department. He's just an intern still though, the only spot open, only this time he's paid and he gets to hang out with his dad whenever, enforcing his healthy food only rule. He's got his own apartment, right down the street from his favorite diner, he even has a cat named Finnigan. He's happy. 

At least, until his first day. 

Stiles walks into the police department, ready to show them all that he's more than just an intern, that he's ready to show them all up. He does a pretty good job too; they have a meeting in the morning to discuss the recent convict who escaped from a nearby county. Stiles shoots down some deputy, Greenberg?,  the idiot believing that maybe the department should just wait for the _convict to come to them._ Stiles tore the guy a new one, blazingly calling him an idiot and then explaining what they will actually be doing. 

His father had just hung his head in his hands, shaking it softly with a rueful smile on his face. Stiles had smirked, then outright smiled when he heard another deputy chuckle from somewhere behind him and to his right. He turned around, looking for an awesome solidarity buddy, and froze. 

Derek. Fucking. Hale. 

Of fucking course, Derek Hale would be the one chuckling at Stiles being a pretentious asshole who gets shit done, of course he's working here, oh my god. Stiles mentally slaps himself, remembering the promise that they would be cops together. You don't break a promise made over _Where the Wild Things Are._ You just don't. 

And apparently Derek knew that, and knows that, even as he smirks at a gaping Stiles. The meeting is ended, people streaming out of the room around them in a bur as Derek smirks and Stiles gapes. Neither of them move, just looking. Stiles can feel a blush covering his face, and he'd be more self conscious about it if he didn't see a slight red tint to Derek's ears. 

Stiles dad walks out, mumbling things about idiots and not at work. This does not help either of the blushes. Stiles looks at Derek, his body fully grown, muscled heavily and dear god, the stubble is still there, edging into beard territory. The eyebrows are bushy, the hair gelled to perfection. And, oh, oh no, it's the jacket, in the flesh, oh no. Stiles feels something twitch in his pants and he knows it isn't his leg. Derek must be going under cover or something- his uniform lacking from his outfit choices for the day. Then the thought of Derek in his uniform makes Stiles whine in his head. He contains himself, breathing out slowly, hoping none of this is noticed as he finishes looking his almost friend over.

It's the bunny teeth though, and the kind but closed off look to Derek's eyes that crushes him though. His resolve hardens as he realizes that he needs to move on. A crush from his childhood shouldn't control him, and honestly Stiles wants Derek as a friend most importantly. Which is the thought that Stiles uses to justify running and hugging Derek right there. 

For the record, Derek hugs back harder, with an even bigger grin on his face. 

They pull back after much too long, neither choosing to acknowledge the prolonged contact. Derek looks Stiles over, his gaze like fingertips dragging up Stiles' entire body. Stiles stifles a soft gasp in a cough, before smiling to Derek. "Guess we both got what we wanted, huh?"

Derek's eyes snap to Stiles face, a smaller grin coloring his features. "Yeah, I guess. I see you're still a little shit, huh?" Derek laughs at Stiles' insulted look, both of them easily sinking back into the friendship they'd carried with them for years. Stiles could feel himself sinking too far though, and smiled before hastily making an excuse to leave. 

Stiles rushes from the room, ignoring the questioning noise Derek makes. He finds his way to the bathroom, fitting into a stall before he begins freaking out. He doesn't even fully know why himself- just that Derek, the man that Stiles has been in love with before he knew what his dick could do, is now going to be working with him. They didn't even have a falling out- they simply trickled into no communication, and Stiles can't help but think that he wasn't worth the goodbye. 

He feels his heart settle, his face growing back into the normal mask; he's an adult, and he's perfectly happy without Derek Hale. He walks out of the bathroom with a goofy smile on his face, barely registering that he had rushed into the wrong bathroom. He just smiles and rolls with the jokes, content in his plan to ignore Derek unless absolutely necessary to talk. 

It almost works.

. . . . 

The Plan is put into place the next day, Stiles walking in and coughing loudly before Derek can say hello, walking right passed the deputy. Stiles notices a slight down turn of the eyebrows and hates himself a little. But then he remembers; Derek Hale slowly broke his heart piece by piece over time. 

So he ignores Derek. He ignores him when he brings in coffee for everyone,-only a little jealous that Derek and the Sheriff are seemly friends- he ignores Derek when he walks over and sits near Stiles; desk, pretending to be preoccupied with papers probably not meant for an intern. He even ignores Derek when it's raining and Stiles' car is in the shop, Stiles telling Derek he'll just ride home with his dad. Which leads to the flaw in the plan.

See the problem with having a Sheriff for a father is, one, he knows absolutely everything, and two, he uses his knowledge to force his son to actually deal with his issues. 

Stiles walks in after weeks of successfully avoiding Derek and finds a new partner list posted to the front bulletin. _No_. Stiles can already feel it, the churning dread in his stomach, the knowledge of how much healthier the enforced meals will be swirling in his mind. He walks to what he considers to be his doom and looks at the list. Looks like the 'rookie' intern will be partnered with one Deputy Derek Hale. 

Stiles turns abruptly when he hears the throat cleared behind him. Naturally it's Derek, and of course, the total dick figured out Stiles' coffee order and is currently holding it out to him with a small grin on his face. 

"Looks like we're partners. Wonder how that went down. Coffee?" Derek's voice is smooth and amused, probably by Stiles' fish face. Stiles feels a burn in his cheeks as he takes the coffee, murmuring a quiet thanks. He stands there, completely thrown and not knowing what to do. And Derek just stands there, watching Stiles not know what to do. 

Thankfully, the morning meeting is called and Stiles almost escapes to the meeting room, but then realizes that Derek is right on his heels. He slouches into a seat in the corner, Derek standing right next to him the entire time. Stiles feels himself sinking into his own mind, coming up with ways to bribe his way out of this when he hears his name and perks up. 

".....so the new intern and Derek will be handling that escaped convict case from a couple weeks back. Greenberg, you're on clean up duty for the rest of the week. Any questions? No? Good." Not even giving time for questions, the Sheriff walks out of the meeting with a smirk on his face. Again, everyone rushes out, leaving only Derek and Stiles in the room. Stiles lets the silent grow, feeling like high pressure in his ears, stretching out. He's about to lose it and just say something when he's pulled to his feet by Derek and led (by the hand) out of the room. Derek continues to quasi hold his hand as he pulls Stiles out of the building and into the parking lot.

Stiles can't help saying, "Is this where you kill me, Deputy? A little eager for our first day." Derek rolls his eyes so hard it looks like they might get stuck before gesturing to his car. The Carmaro.  

Stiles would like to note that the second heart breaking love of his life will always be Derek's car. Derek must see it on his face, or maybe he's remembering Stiles being more excited than Derek all those years ago, but he smirks and just walks towards the parked car. Stiles watches him walk realizing for the first time today that Derek's not in uniform yet again- instead, the leather jacket adorns his wide shoulders, with simple black jeans and a gun strapped to his belt. Stiles tells himself that he didn't stare at Derek's ass. 

Derek turns around, his eyebrows a questioning taunt, and Stiles again feels the burn in his cheeks as he stumbles to the car. As he straps himself in, he looks around the car- just as clean as Derek always kept it, and smelling only of Derek and leather. _Contain yourself Stilinski._

Derek pulls out of the lot and onto he street, easy carelessness in how he begins to talk, "I got a lead on where the escaped convict may be. We're headed to this dingy little bar a couple miles out. That okay with you?" 

Stiles tries not to feel anything at Derek seeking his approval before responding with a small 'yes.' Derek smiles at him, pulling his sunglasses from the barrier between them and onto his face. Stiles resolutely looks away and out the window, trying to focus on the big outside and not the small cramped inside.

They get a call though, about half way there. There's apparently a fire downtown. Derek curses and drives immediately to the address. Stiles feels dread grown in his stomach. 

Luckily, when they arrive everyone is out of the building and the fire department is there. Unluckily, this is when Derek stares at the flames, his breath coming faster in and out, panic obviously rising. He begins gasping for air, leaning against the side of the car, and Stiles just reacts, pulling Derek to him, holding him and rubbing his back in soft circles, whispering that it will be okay, everything will be fine. For both their sakes they both choose to ignore the tears falling from their eyes. Stiles herds Derek back into the passenger side, knowing he wouldn't want this to be public. 

Stiles truly knows how bad it must be when Derek actually lets him drive the Camaro back to the station, Derek quietly letting tears slip out along the way. The ride is tense, Stiles probably breaking a few laws, but they make it back, Stiles parking in Derek's usual spot. He reaches across the consul, awkwardly pulling Derek into a semblance of a hug, cooing into his ear. Derek whispers a soft thank you.

Neither of them speak of it. 

. . . . 

The next day, they actually end up going to the bar. But Stiles is happy that nothing is awkward- honestly, Derek has done the same for Stiles hundred of times. So they pull into the bar, both of them wearing schooled expressions of bored smirks on their faces. Derek's wearing all black and the leather jacket. Stiles is the same, sans jacket, a tight v-neck showing off his broad shoulders and collarbone. 

The lot of the bar is filled with muscle cars and motorcycles, both of them fitting in perfectly in Derek's car. They walk in, the small room filled with the sharp tang of alcohol, and the faint smell of pot. Stiles smirks for real as Derek looks scandalized for a moment, before schooling his expression. 

And suddenly, Stiles isn't afraid of his crush in here; feeling his facade drown out his real self as he saunters to the bar, swaying his hips as he goes, drawing attention from people as he walks. He asks the bartender if he's seen the guy, and the bartender smiles, a dimple showing on his tan face. He gives Stiles an address, says that the guy is probably sleeping off a hangover. Stiles chuckles, and the bartender introduces himself as Danny. 

Danny smiles flirtatiously, saying an octave lower, "You look new. I think I would remember someone like you." Stiles feels himself blush, his cover slipping for a moment. But then he feels Derek come up behind him, cursing under his breath and dragging Stiles out of the bar and into the lot.

"What the hell, Derek? I got an address! I could've gotten more if you had just been patient." Stiles lets his rage bleed into his words.

Derek looks at him, just as furious as he says, "God, Stiles that guy just wanted to fuck you. Jesus, and you were going to flirt back!" 

Stiles feels shocked, leaving Derek to find the car and get inside. They don't speak the entire way back, but the tension builds and builds until finally, after they've parked back at the station, Derek breaks. 

"I mean jesus, Stiles since when have you even been into guys-"

"Well asshole, maybe if you hadn't ignored me for a bunch of years than you would know."

Derek looks hurt, but Stiles can't care right now. Derek continues though, telling Stiles, "I just didn't need your pity- I lost my entire family, Stiles."

Stiles feels a stab of hurt at that, "Fuck you, Derek. They were mine too."

He storms out of the car, ignoring the tears falling from his eyes and Derek calling to him from behind.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles wakes up the next day, happy until the memories of the day before rush through him; him and Derek fighting, all the things he said. He hates himself a little, knowing he said some pretty unfair stuff to Derek- Jesus, he'd been an asshole. Guilt fills him, grounding him and keeping him from getting up for awhile, wanting to stay in his cocoon of unhappiness and self pity. Even his cat gives him a judgmental look. He returns the look, and they fall into a staring match. 

Finnigan wins, and Stiels pushes him away gently, rolling over to face his nightstand. He figures it's about time for jerking off guiltily to thoughts of Derek. He crawls to the drawer, easily pull in out his vibe and a half empty bottle of lube. 

He rides his vibrator, his body rising and falling over and over, teasing himself. When he comes, it's sobbing Derek's name, the vibrations right up against where he's most sensitive. He lays out in his haze of post bliss, lazily pulling on a pair of boxers, wiping up the mess he made with tissues. He thinks he may be drifting back to sleep when he hears a knock. Thinking it could've been nothing he tries to find sleep again. 

Stiles is drawn away though, by the now steady knocking on the door. Stiles crashes out of the bed, already guessing who it is. But he tells himself that he needs to grow up- he answers the door, unsurprised to find Derek there. Derek looks surprised though, seeing Stiles in his boxers and wrapped in a blanket, hair tousled. Stiles wordlessly walks away from the door, leaving it open for Derek to follow through, hoping there isn't an obvious hitch in his step giving away his earlier activities.

Stiles walks into the kitchen and begins making a pot of coffee. He looks up, the memory that his place is an absolute mess smacking him in the head. "Uh, sorry it's such a mess. Still moving all my shit in. Want some coffee?" Derek is looking around, his gaze lingering on the bookshelf, an old, worn copy of  _Where the Wild Things Are_ the only book there as of now.

Derek's gaze snaps to Stiles from where it had been searching the apartment. He nods and then opens his mouth. And then closes it again. Opens, closes, opens- "Derek, it's fine. I'm- I'm really sorry for the stuff I said yesterday. I was an asshole." 

Derek looks shocked, and then a little angry, "Don't be sorry- I shouldn't have- shouldn't have pulled you out of there like that. Whatever you were going to get from Danny- I should have let you go." Stiles nods, handing Derek a cup of coffee without a comment. They stand there like that- Derek collected and dressed in real people clothes, Stiles essentially naked and wrapped in a blanket. Finnigan walks over to Derek, meowing his desperate pet-me-you-might-be-worthy meow. Derek melts instantly, leaning down to pet the cat, stroking behind his ears. 

But something is still bothering Stiles, something that he just can't let go of- "Yesterday. You said that you didn't want my pity. Did you not understand friendship, Derek? I could never pity you- I cared about you-" 

Derek huffs, standing up, his calm collectiveness broken. "I just didn't need fake reassurances- nothing could change what happened-"

"So what, when you held me while I had panic attacks, that was pity? Or when you would cry when I cried for my mom- was that pity?" It's a low blow, but Stiles doesn't care, just needing Derek to understand. It sinks perfectly though, Derek's faced horrified by the thought. He begins mumbling an apology, but Stiles doesn't want him to apologize. 

Sucking in a breath, Stiles says quietly, "I cared about you Derek- I still do. I just wanted you to know that I'm here if you ever need me again."

Derek draws back, looking confused. "Why? I- I stopped talking to you, we were friends and I just went away- how can you just forgive me so easily?" 

"I was in love with you. Have been for like a really long time." The words are out of Stiles' control, out, floating in the air between them before he can stop them. But Stiles realizes that he's got nothing to lose- sure, they work together and now things will be awkward, but Stiles just needs to be there for Derek, just once. 

Derek looks shocked, his mouth a perfect 'O', his eyebrows raised so far they might fly off his head. Stiles brushes passed him, walking into his room and collecting his clothes. He hastily puts on what he wore yesterday (he figures Derek won't judge too much) and pulls out the slip of paper with the address on it. Walking back out, Stiles finds Derek just where he left him. Stiles feels lighter now that the secret is out, somehow making him less anxious around Derek. Sure, his heart and soul aches because Derek didn't even shoot him down. Stiles once again didn't deserve a response. 

Stiles shakes it off, walking through the apartment and towards the door, saying without turning around, "We still have to go get this guy. Just follow behind me in your car." His voice is flat, showing how he really feels. 

He doesn't bother to turn around, hearing Derek wordlessly follow. 

. . . .

When Stiles pulls up to the address he does a double take- the house is more of a shack, the entire foundation in shambles. Stiles immediately feels like he's being watched, but forces himself out of the car and onto the faded path leading to the shack. He vaguely registers Derek behind him as he knocks on the door- no answer. Figures. He walks in anyway, stopping when he notices Derek frozen on the porch. 

"Come on, we can just say that you were following someone, me, breaking in. Perfectly legal?" Stiles smirks a little when Derek rolls his eyes, but he does follow. They walk into the hole of a house, barely enough room for both of them to walk too far away from each other. Everything is insanely quiet, like Stiles can hear a ringing in his ears because of how quiet it is.

The silence is shattered by Derek's yell and a loud smack to the back of Stiles' head. 

Then everything gets really quiet again. 

. . . . 

Stiles wakes up, Derek looking down at him, worry marring his features. He keeps saying something, Stiles knows because he can see the bunny teeth behind Derek's moving lips. He finally registers that he's just saying Stiles' name over and over. 

"Oh, that is not how I wanted to hear you saying my name like that." Derek nearly drops Stiles, eyes rolling and small, still anxious smile on his face. "Did we catch the bad guy? It was me wasn't it, I caught him, I was the bait. The master bait- hah, get it master bait."

Derek's eyebrows come together in concern, and Stiles is picked up hastily and put into an ambulance. The guy, someone named Boyd says he's fine and to wake him up every few hours. That's when Stiles notices the police car and his own father pushing their convict forcefully into the back of it. They're outside the shack, Stiles guessing that he had only been out for a few minutes. He looks back to Derek who's looking at him. 

"I'm driving you home. And don't worry, I even got permission from your dad." Stiles scowls at Derek's words, but walks with him towards Derek's car. They decide to come back for the jeep tomorrow, Stiles blowing his baby a kiss goodbye as they pull away. 

The ride back is short and quiet, Stiles beginning to feel a lump and a matching headache in his head. Derek parks though, following Stiles all the way upstairs to his apartment. Stiles would tell him that he doesn't need to be babied- Derek dragging him around all the time really enough- but Derek has a stony look on his face, one that even Stiles won't provoke. They make it into the apartment, Derek pointing at the couch and very eloquently ordering Stiles to sit. 

Stiles chooses not to sit, walking, swaying really, into the kitchen and pulling out some bottled water. He feels Derek come up behind him, feels more than hears the whisper Derek lets out. "You could've been really hurt." 

Stiles is the one who rolls his eyes this time, "Der- I'm fine. You can even stay over if you want so you can mother me all night. That is, if you're not uncomfortable, ya know, with me. Liking you." Stiles coughs awkwardly. 

Derek looks at him, murmuring softly, "You don't make me uncomfortable. And I actually wanted to talk about that-" 

"Listen, Der, I already know that it's a rejection, okay? It's fine, I never thought you'd like me anyway." Stiles shrugs even as his casual words kill him a little. He shakes it off, beginning to head towards the bedroom to hopefully go to sleep for the next billion years. Derek shoots out an arm though, blocking Stiles' path. 

"Der come on, it's okay-"

Stiles is cut off by a gentle kiss, Derek leaning in and kissing him for all his worth Stiles freezes and feels Derek begin to pull back, and no, that shouldn't happen, and Stiles darts forward, clumsily catching Derek's lips with his own, guiding the kisses into something more filthy, a simple tangle of hot breathes and tongues. Derek's hands fly up, gently cradling Stiles' face in his hands, moving their bodies closer until both of them are pressed tightly together. Stiles whimpers as Derek pulls away panting, his hair askew and mouth kiss swollen. 

"I feel the same way you idiot-"

And that's all Stiles needs, pulling Derek with him into the bedroom, never taking his mouth off of Derek's. They mumble things between kisses, when they pull apart to undress. Derek whispers softly into Stiles' ear from where he'd been trailing kisses up his neck, "I've loved you for so long- thought you wouldn't want me, that I wasn't good enough-" Stiles cuts him off again, falling backwards onto the bed, pulling Derek down on top of him. They're both completely naked, grinding against each other messily. 

Stiles throws an arm out, pointing to his nightstand, and Derek seems to understand, going to it and picking out the lube. He lingers for a second, staring down at something... _Oh_. That's where Stiles keeps what he affectionately calls Derek junior- his small, bullet vibrator. Derek doesn't say a thing though, wandering back over to Stiles, trickling kisses down his body. Stiles keens when Derek leaves a hickey right above Stiles' cock, Stiles feeling his arousal twitch and begin to leak at the feeling. Derek chuckles, lubing up his own fingers, easily pushing one inside of Stiles, his hole still loose from earlier that day. 

Stiles stares at the ceiling, but he can feel Derek staring at his face from between his legs. Derek watches, and then very deliberately crooks his fingers inside of Stiles. Screaming, Stiles arches off the bed, his cock letting out a spurt of precum as Derek begins to drag across his prostate slowly. He whines, his hips hitching and circling, helpless grinding and hoping for more. 

"You're so sensitive. One day, I'm gonna finger you and eat you out- do you think you could come from just that? And god, Stiles, I know what you did earlier. You're so loose, so desperate, and then I find that vibrator? Jesus, I could've fucked you right then on the floor. But I want to watch you come apart, piece by piece." Stiles gasps hollowly into the air, a sob working it's way out of his throat. 

"Please, m'ready, please Der. Need you so bad, always thought of it like this-" He's cut off by his own whine, loud enough to probably bother the neighbors. Stiles doesn't care though, can only focus on the fingers drawing away as he's turned over, suddenly astride Derek.

"That's it baby, want to watch you ride me. That okay?" Again, care and kindness leaks into Derek's voice and Stiles can only whine in return at the empty feeling. He forces his eyes open though, looking down at Derek- his face is flushed, his body moving quickly as he pants. His cock is so hard it looks painful, arched up towards Derek's stomach, leaking steadily at the tip. 

Stiles _wants_. 

"condom?" Derek asks, drawing Stiles out of his viewing. He blushes, whispering quietly that he's clean. Derek smiles, confirming that he's clean too. Stiles trusts Derek, and he _needs_ to feel Derek come in him. 

He eagerly scoots up, reaching behind himself to touch Derek's cock. Derek lets out a low groan as Stiles strokes him a few times before Stiles circles his hips, catching the head of Derek's cock. They both let out whines, Stiles teasing himself and Derek at this point. Derek's hands fly up to Stiles' hips, taking control.

Derek holds Stiles' hips, hard enough to bruise, as he slowly, slowly, lowers Stiles onto his cock. Stiles lets his head fall back on a wordless gasp, his body stuck in a moment of complete pleasure. Derek coos, letting out softly, "I know baby, I know." and shifts slightly, rolling his hips up gently. Stiles lets out a whine, feeling his cock begin to leak steadily. Sex had never been like this before, always quick and efficient, nothing as slow and dragged out as with Derek. Derek begins rolling his hips faster, a never-ending rhythm leaving Stiles breathless. 

It's when Stiles rolls back to meet Derek's hips that he lets out a helpless cry; Derek rolls perfectly against his prostate, sending Stiles' body into a fit of drowning pleasure. Derek freezes, looking at the tears beginning to fall from Stiles' eyes, thinking it must be his head. "You okay-"

"Derek, please. Please, god don't stop, right there, right- right" Stiles' head falls from side to side as he begs, his body tightening on it's own accord when Derek curses, picking up a faster, harder rhythm, hitting his sweet spot dead on. The room is filled with the sounds of slapping flesh and quiet moans. Sex permeates the air, the smell of both of them making Stiles' gut curl in pleasure.

Derek groans into Stiles' chest as he feels him tighten, his forehead leaning on Stiles' shoulder. "God, I always wanted you. Couldn't help myself- had to see, had to see the way you were growing up. Oh, god, Stiles. You have no idea- everything you do is obscene, I could get hard just watching you work." Stiles' eyes roll back at Derek's words, already coming up with ways to tease Derek at work. He lets out another high pitched scream of ecstasy when Derek begins slowly rolling his hips in circles, right where Stile needs it. Stiles can't even control himself, fucking himself down hard against Derek, forcing groans from both of them as he takes what he needs.

Derek growls and rolls them over, so he's on top of Stiles, his weight holding Stiles to the bed as he fucks into him. "You're so sensitive. I bet I could make you come just like this- you're so good for me. Wanted this, wanted you for so long, but you were so young." Derek moans frustratedly at the thought, long and low, his body moving faster against Stiles. And Stiles- Stiles is gone, mindless in his pleasure, not even aware of the helpless keens and whines he's making. 

Stiles only becomes aware of his own fingernails dragging viciously down Derek's back when Derek arches, letting out an uncontrolled cry and buck of his hips. Stiles does it again, dragging his nails down Derek's back as they buck against each other. His feet come up to rest on the small of Derek's back, his hands ending  on Derek's ass, pulling him in deeper. They kiss sloppily, the bed creaking under the two of them as they rut against each other. 

"That's it- that's it baby. You take me so well, just how I knew you would. Just tell me what you need, where you need me." It's almost asking for too much, Derek wanting Stiles to form coherent thoughts when he's this far gone. But Derek slows his hips, barely pushing in before pulling out. 

Stiles lets out a wounded cry of frustration, his body beginning to beg for release. "Der- right- right there, please, I'll be so good. Anything, anything you want- just need you, please." Stiles' words are mere whimpers by the time he's finished, but Derek doesn't pick up the place, only coos softly when Stiles lets out another whimper- "Der- please, make me come, need you so bad, always thought about you, inside me, taking me. Please. Need it." His words get higher and higher, more desperate with every second. 

Derek kisses him, hard and filthy, their tongues tangling in the air. Derek pushes in all the way, making Stiles ache with how full he is. "That's what you want? Want me to make you come, baby?" He mirrors each word with a hard, well aimed thrust, pushing Stiles higher and higher. Stiles wails, tremors wracking him as Derek works his prostate, making Stiles become a helpless pile of need. Stiles reaches up though, slowing Derek, as he cries out, "Please Derek- wanna see you come first, want you to fill me up- please." 

Derek lets out a whine, his body moving on it's own accord at the words, pushing them both right to the edge. Stiles can see it in the way Derek almost looks pained, the soft 'O' of his mouth, the squeezing of his eyes. Barely knowing what he's doing, Stiles reaches down, softly rubbing gentle circles at Derek's hole. Derek lets out a wounded gasp, his hips bucking as he lets out another high pitched whine, coming inside of Stiles with a forceful final thrust of his hips. Stiles feels the warmth, the quick gush of Derek's come inside of him, the soft quivers as Derek falls through bliss.

The very idea sends him over the edge, Derek's cock snug against his prostate as he comes. Stiles lets out a wail of Derek's name, leaving Earth for a second as he whites out, coming back to Derek cooing gently and brushing his hair back softly. 

. . . . 

They both come down slowly, simply gazing at each other over the divide between them. That's when Derek talks. "I think I fell in love with you when you let me read to you- remember that little stutter I had? Laura used to give me so much shit for it when I was reading, but you didn't say a thing. You were my favorite person." Stiles feels himself beam, fondness rolling through him as he remembers that day. Derek continues though, his voice growing quieter, "But then they died. I just- I couldn't let you see me like that. I was always going to be the strong one for you, anything you needed, but I was afraid that you would see me weak."

Stiles considers the words, then rolls over so he's laying on top of Derek. "I fell in love with you when you did voices in all the books we read. I fell in love with you when you were there for me. I could never see you as weak. You're- you're it for me Derek, the whole deal. And yeah, I hated every second that we didn't talk, but I know that you needed to be away for a while." 

Derek looks at Stiles with a soft, loving look. Stiles feels his heart skip a beat, then asks the question he's been wondering for days, "did you bribe my father to get me to be your partner?"

Derek gapes, blushing as he stammers out a weak reply, Stiles laughing the whole time. They begin to drift off though, both of them falling into a deep sleep, and Stiles suddenly feels the need to tell Derek, "you know, I think you and me were meant to be." 

Derek smiles, not opening his eyes, but whispering a soft, yeah, probably, you idiot.

Stiles has never felt more in love.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hoped you liked it, that it wasn't too bad, all that stuff. Sorry for typos!  
> If anyone wants a prompt done or anything you can message me on my tumblr. http://sterekwhateven.tumblr.com


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